


Color Me Blue (That's Me Without You)

by starryviolentine (LadySoymilk)



Series: Pre-Apocalypse Adventures [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Friendship, Gen, Guess Who's Back, Minor Original Character(s), Pre-Canon, Roommates, Therissa's Back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26175214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySoymilk/pseuds/starryviolentine
Summary: (Part two of the "Pre-Apocalypse Adventures" Series) The events of a long weekend have twelve-year-old best friends Violet and Brody feeling all kinds of blue. Not quite the homey, familiar blue of a diary cover, nor the glittery liquid blue of their roommate’s nail polish. Gloomier, more melancholy shades of blue.
Relationships: Brody & Violet (Walking Dead: Done Running)
Series: Pre-Apocalypse Adventures [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900831
Comments: 9
Kudos: 5





	1. Violet

_Color Me Blue_ takes place a few weeks after the events of my 2019 fanfic, [_Brody's Diary_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18429122/chapters/43653260). This story focuses on the same characters: pre-apocalypse Brody, Violet and their teenage roommate, Therissa. If you haven't read Brody's Diary yet, I highly recommend doing so! It should give you an idea of what the characters are like as well as their relationship dynamics. 

* * *

**Violet**

Violet is unbelievably, incredibly  _ bored _ . 

All the students at Ericson Academy have a four-day weekend this week because of teacher conferences, or training, or something or other—Violet’s not sure of the exact reason, but all she knows is that it’s going be boring and lame because Brody will be gone the entire time, just like she always is. Every time there’s a holiday break or even just a long weekend, the Burress family comes to pick Brody up so they can spend the time together. 

Which completely sucks. 

Well, not for Brody. Violet’s really happy that her friend gets to do lots of stuff with her family. When Brody comes back she always has interesting stories to tell, and sometimes she even brings back a little trinket as a souvenir for Violet, like one of those really pretty, colorful rocks from the science museum, or one of those pennies that you stick into those machines and it comes out imprinted with a picture. It’s just that it would be cool to be able to hang out with Brody and do those things together instead of being stuck at this boring, lame school.

Their bedroom was dark and quiet this morning, as is usually the case when Brody’s away. Brody’s the one who gets out of bed first and likes to let in the sunshine. If it’s particularly warm and the weather is nice, she’ll open their window and Violet wakes to a gentle breeze that always feels really nice. Their other roommate, Therissa, will sometimes grumble about Brody letting the pollen in or, if she’s  _ really _ not in a good mood, just bang on the wall from her bunk and tell her to  _ “Shut the damn blinds!” _

Without Brody shuffling around the room doing this and that, Therissa, in typical teen fashion, is still sound asleep when Violet finally decides to get up. For a brief moment, the younger girl considers waking her roommate up so she has somebody to eat breakfast with, but she quickly changes her mind. Therissa can be scary when she’s woken up against her will. Violet decides that it’s not worth the risk.

After a boring, lame breakfast, Violet realizes that she has nothing else on her agenda for the day, so she purposely takes the long way back to the dormitories, hoping that she will think of something to do on the way. She could go for a walk outside… or practice her dribbling in the gym… or she could hang around the dormitories to see what other losers are stuck at Ericson’s on a long weekend and maybe do something with them. But Violet scrunches up her nose at the thought of socializing and shakes her head.  _ Nope. Not today.  _

And so that’s how Violet finds herself standing outside of the library. 

Now, Violet has never been that big on reading. She reads _sometimes_ , but only if there isn’t anything better to do, and only if the reading material is something she really cares about. Violet wanders slowly, aimlessly, running one finger along the spines of the books she passes. Her feet carry her quite effortlessly through the literary labyrinth to a familiar section in the back, near the tables and chairs. Going over to one of the bookcases in particular, she crouches down until she’s eye-level with a row of pastel paperbacks. 

It’s a series about a group of teenage babysitters, and although Violet wouldn’t ever read it herself, she knows of a certain auburn-haired girl who’s currently hooked. Brody sped through the first thirty volumes in less than two weeks, and almost every evening before curfew she would drag Violet here so she could return one book and check out another… or two or three. Violet narrows her eyes at the triple digit number on the last volume, wondering how in the world the author could write over a hundred books about the same group of kids and not run out of ideas.

Hand hovering over a book with a yellow cover, Violet pauses and double—no,  _ triple  _ checks the area around her to make sure nobody’s watching. There’s not a soul in sight, but the back of her neck still prickles with embarrassment as she plucks the book from the shelf and flips through the first few pages. Violet just wants to see what Brody finds so fascinating about these books, that’s all. 

Before she knows it, though, she’s fifty pages deep and has nestled herself in a corner, back resting against one of the tall wooden bookcases. Unfortunately for Violet, she’s so focused on the words lining the pages of the book in her lap that she neither sees nor hears anybody approaching until there’s a shadow looming over her. The girl jumps and slams the book shut as her cheeks start to burn. Taking a moment to mentally prepare herself to face whoever just caught her red-handed reading what could honestly be the most embarrassing book series in the world, she slowly lifts her head while throwing in a quick prayer that it’s nobody she knows. 

By some miracle, it’s not Marlon… or Mitch, both of whom Violet is certain would never let her live this down. She’s lucky that it’s nobody from her class, either. And _thank god_ it’s not Therissa. Violet counts her lucky stars for that because her roommate would definitely tease her about this for the next century… and would _absolutely_ tell Brody about it when she gets back. 

It’s actually the school librarian, Mrs. Wilson, who’s looking down at Violet with a soft, apologetic smile. “Didn’t mean to startle you, dear. I just thought you might be more comfortable moving to one of the chairs over over there.”

“No! Um, no thank you,” Violet hastily replies, scrambling to her feet and tucking the book back into its space on the shelf. Now that she’s been seen, she has no intention of sticking around. 

“Your friend isn’t with you today?”

There it is. The dreaded question. Violet knows that the librarian doesn’t mean any harm by asking, as the only time she ever sets foot in the library is when she’s with Brody. She figures that Mrs. Wilson has gotten so used to seeing them together that now she views them as a boxed set—all on her own, Violet is incomplete. A half-empty case with a big, gaping space where her companion volume should be. All of a sudden, the bookshelves around Violet feel like they’ve grown ten times their size, leaving her feeling especially small. 

Violet gives a tiny shake of her head, staring down at the muddy stains on the toes of her shoes from when she and Brody had a race across the courtyard lawn last week. As it turned out, the grass had still been a bit wet from overnight showers and they ended up tracking dirty footprints all the way up the stairs to their room. The janitor who had to clean up the mess ended up paying them a visit later that evening, and even though he didn’t scold them or sound too angry—he mostly just warned them about being more careful where they walk—Brody still cried.

“Oh, my. Well, do say hello for me the next time you see her.” 

“I-I should go,” the blonde mumbles, shifting her weight from foot to foot as the urge to bolt intensifies. Mrs. Wilson is probably the kindest, most helpful lady in the entire school, but Violet’s been in a strange sort of mood all morning and kind of just wants to be alone. Before the librarian can say anything else, Violet hightails it out of there and doesn’t look back. Her library encounter has made her feel as though there’s nowhere safe to go without potentially running into somebody else, so, instead of continuing her little detour, Violet begrudgingly returns to the dorms. 

She wonders if Therissa’s awake yet. 

Ever since the whole bell tower incident, things have been a lot better between them. Of course, old habits die hard and Therissa is still _Therissa_ , but she doesn’t rag on her and Brody as much anymore. They’ve been talking a lot more, too. 

And it’s not that Violet’s hoping to hang out with her roommate today or anything like that. She’s just so _bored_ and… well, it might be kind of fun to pester the teen for a bit. To kill time, of course. 

Definitely not because she’s lonely without Brody. 


	2. Therissa

**Therissa**

There are a lot of things at this miserable boarding school that Therissa hates, and having to get out of bed before noon is one of them. For some reason, her body betrays her this morning and causes her to wake during actual a.m. hours, which is a complete waste, considering the fact that she has no classes, no plans, and, above all, no early bird Brody to disturb her from her slumber at some ungodly hour. But even though being awake right now is totally stupid, Therissa sits at her desk getting ready for the day in spite of it all. The contents of her cosmetic box litter her desktop, which is covered in smudges of eyeliner and streaks of colored nail polish like some sort of grungy, mixed-media masterpiece.

The seventeen-year-old leans in close to her mini mirror as she skillfully applies her signature black-on-black liner and mascara combo, all while reveling in the peace and quiet. Therissa can basically count on one hand the number of times she’s been in her bedroom without at least one of her roommates around. She’s just starting to enjoy this rare, blissful moment of alone time when the bedroom door opens and a familiar, twiggy blonde comes traipsing in.

Violet. Her littlest roommate... in both age and size. Kind of emotionally closed off, but still strangely sensitive. The same dumb kid who ran away in the rain and nearly died of hypothermia. The one and only. To this day, Therissa still doesn’t know why Violet was sent to Ericson’s. She’s never talked about it, at least not out loud in a place where Therissa could overhear. Maybe not at all. It’s not really a topic most kids want to talk about in the first place, so Therissa hasn’t asked. With Brody, she didn’t exactly have to. In the first week of living together it was already pretty clear that the poor kid had some sort of anxiety issues. When it comes to Violet, though, Therissa is stumped. It’s like another one of the many unsolvable mysteries of life. _Who stole the Hope Diamond? Where is Amelia Earhart? Why was Violet sent to Ericson Academy?_

“Oh. You’re up.”

Therissa gives Violet a look through the mirror. “‘Good morning’ to you, too.”

Violet kicks off her shoes at the foot of her bed, hoists herself into her bunk, then collapses facedown onto her mattress. It gives the teen some serious _deja vu_. 

“Here we go again…” Therissa mumbles under her breath. She quickly adds the finishing touches to her eye makeup before turning around to look at her roommate. “Well? What’s up with you this morning?”

“Why are you even awake?” Violet dodges the question with another question, a technique that she often uses whenever she wants to avoid talking about something. “You’re never up before it’s practically dinner time.”

“You know what they say, Blondie. ‘Seize the day’ or some shit.”

Violet is quiet for a few moments but then rolls over to peek at Therissa through the rails of her bunk. “So… do you, like, have stuff to do today?”

If Therissa didn’t know any better, she’d say that Violet sounds like she doesn’t _want_ her to have any plans. Like she’s hoping that she’ll stay and keep her company. Therissa hides her smirk by shoving her face back in front of her mirror and putting on a second layer of lipstick. 

It’s been several weeks since the day Violet “disappeared” and Therissa teamed up with Brody to find her. She never would have guessed that doing so would change her relationship with her two younger roommates as much as it did. Brody and Violet seem to trust her more, and they even feel comfortable coming up to talk to her whenever they’re in their bedroom at the same time. And, okay, Therissa has to admit that she maybe _,_ kind of, sort of enjoys their company, too… even though they can still be dopey, annoying, and not to mention _embarrassing._ Every time Therissa walks into the shared bathroom in the mornings and Brody’s at the sink brushing her teeth, the younger girl will give her a toothpasty grin and a wave without a care in the world that there are witnesses around. And just the other day, Therissa was coming back from afternoon classes and happened to pass by Violet, who not only hurried to catch up, but then proceeded to walk _side by side_ with her all the way through the busy residence hall.

In any case, Therissa still finds it hard to believe that she can tolerate the little twerps now. She must be going soft. _Gross._ But just because they’re cool with each other now doesn’t mean that they have to be nice _all_ the time. What fun would it be if she didn’t lovingly tease Brody or playfully push Violet’s buttons every once in a while? She has to keep things interesting. Besides, Therissa wouldn’t ever be able to forgive herself if she let things get too sappy. 

That’s why she’s about to mess with Violet a little. All in good fun, of course. 

“Actually, yeah,” answers Therissa, making sure that she sounds as nonchalant as possible. She runs her fingers through her hair, gives her reflection one final once-over and then grabs her jacket off the back of her chair to give the impression that she’s got somewhere else to be. “My sister’s coming to save me from this hellhole and I’m gonna spend the weekend at her place.”

Therissa is met with complete silence and it takes all she has not to burst out laughing. Instead of putting her jacket on, she turns around, bunches it into a ball and hurls it up into her roommate’s bunk. 

“Hey!” cries Violet. There’s some muffled sputtering as the girl pushes herself upright and tears the garment from her head. She huffily swipes messy strands of hair out of her eyes and mouth and glares down at Therissa. 

The look on Violet’s face is priceless and it sends Therissa over the edge. The teen laughs so hard and for so long that it starts to sound more like a cackle. It takes a while before Therissa calms down enough to speak again. “Yeah, as if,” she scoffs, shaking her head. “She’s got a baby now and, I don’t know about you, but I’d rather down an entire bottle of sulphuric acid from Mad Stanley’s lab than have to listen to that thing cry all day.” 

Therissa reaches over the rails to smooth out Violet’s long locks, but the tween frowns and pulls back, swatting her away. “Stop.”

The smirk on Therissa’s face turns playful. “Don’t get your flower print undies in a bunch. I’m not going anywhere.”

Violet growls and slams herself back down on her bed, abruptly turning to face the wall. She curls into herself, cheeks heating up, and fights the urge to bury her head under her pillow. “You said you weren’t gonna talk about that anymore!”

“Okay, okay. I won’t.”

There are still audible traces of laughter in her roommate’s voice and Violet huffs again. “I’m serious!”

“Look, you don’t have to be embarrassed. I honestly couldn’t care less what your underw—”

“THERISSA!”

“All right, chill.” Holding her hands up in surrender, Therissa figures that she’d better change the subject before Violet freaks out even more. “Anyway, from the way that you’ve just been lying around since you got back, I take it you don’t have any plans for today, either.”

“No. This place sucks,” Violet grumbles. “There’s nothing to do.”

Chuckling, Therissa returns to her side of the room and sinks back into her chair. “Can’t argue with that. Well, you have fun up there. I’m gonna do my own thing down here. Cool?”

The response she gets is more of a halfhearted grunt rather than actual words, but Therissa lets it slide. Good enough. Back at her desk, the teen pushes some clutter aside and unpacks her collection of nail polish. Her last coat is majorly chipped, and the color has grown out beyond what slapping on another layer of polish would fix anyway. It’s about time she redoes them. At least now she has something on her to-do list for the day. 

She can’t say the same for her roommate, though. 

Anyway, Therissa’s pretty sure that she knows what the matter is. Violet has a tendency to get sulky like this whenever a _certain someone_ isn’t here. A couple of months ago, Therissa wouldn’t have cared. Honestly, she probably would’ve just rolled her eyes and told Violet to get over it. 

It’s funny how much things can change. 

For the first time ever, Therissa sort of wishes Brody was back, too… if only just so Violet would stop looking so damn _sad._


	3. A Gruesome Twosome

**A Gruesome Twosome**

Therissa slaps on her headphones, cranks up the volume on her CD player, and lets herself get lost in her world of mediocre, low-budget nail art. Starting off by removing her old coat with some “peach scented” acetone, which actually smells like pure toxic chemicals and isn’t fruity in the least, Therissa decides to go with a basic black and starts with her right hand. Therissa likes to get the worst over with first. Painting her own nails with her non-dominant hand is still a pain in the ass even though she’s done it a hundred times before. 

By the time Therissa’s finished with two coats of black and a clear top coat on both hands, it’s been well over an hour. All she’s got left to do is wait until they’re dry. To speed things up a bit, she plugs in her hair dryer and uses the cool setting to assist with the drying process. Therissa glances over at Violet’s bunk again, just to see if her roommate is still in the same spot she saw her last. 

Sure enough, there she is… in all of her gloomy, glowering glory. 

Except now she’s sitting upright, _watching_ her _._

“You know, if you’re just gonna creep on me the whole weekend, maybe I should stay with my sister after all,” Therissa comments aloud, knowing full well that her voice is being drowned out by the obnoxious humming of her hair dryer. She watches as the frown on Violet’s face is replaced with a perplexed expression, confirming that her roomie didn’t catch a word she said.

Violet mouths something, and even though Therissa can’t hear it, it’s undoubtedly a confused _‘What?’_

Deeming her nails to be dry enough, Therissa shuts the appliance off. “You’re not seriously going to mope around the entire time Brody’s gone, are you?”

Visibly stiffening, Violet’s scowl returns and she crosses her arms. “I’m not moping.”

Therissa rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to the mess on her desk, starting to put things back into their proper place. “Whatever you say.”

Hair clips, cotton pads, tiny bottles of dark reds, purples, blues and blacks. The teen haphazardly tosses everything back into her makeup box. So she isn’t the most organized person in the world, but so what? Her fingers curl around her half-empty bottle of nail polish remover, ready to put it back as well, but then she stops as an interesting idea comes to her. The corners of her lips twitch with the tiniest hint of a smile.

“Hey, V,” Therissa calls, “come here for a sec.”

Violet is apprehensive, her voice unsure. “What for?” 

“Just get your bony butt down here before I change my mind.”

Before she can stop herself, Violet finds herself complying with the command. She climbs down her ladder but stops once her feet reach the floor, pausing to stare at Therissa as though trying to figure out her intentions before stepping any closer. 

Still seated, Therissa scoots herself a couple of feet to the right and gestures to the space beside her. “Pull up a chair.” 

The younger girl silently obliges, dragging her own chair across the room and placing it beside Therissa’s, but still keeping a bit of distance between them. Violet slowly lowers herself onto the very edge of her chair and keeps on her toes… just in case. Curious green eyes watch the teen, who pulls out several small bottles from a box on her desk and starts to line them up in a neat row.

 _Oh no._ If this is what this looks like… and it really, really does… any second now Therissa is going to—

“Let me do your nails.”

Violet internally groans. 

“You’ve got nothing better to do… I’ve got nothing better to do…” Therissa leans her head on her hand, looking at the unenthusiastic girl beside her. “Honestly, what have either of us got to lose?”

“My dignity.”

The comeback is timed so perfectly, with just the right amount of snark that Therissa is both amused and impressed. Compared to when she first arrived at Ericson’s, Violet has come a long way in regards to feeling comfortable around others, Therissa included. There’s something rather endearing about the way that Violet’s gone from never saying a word to her, much less making eye contact, to being able to be herself around her. She can even be kind of sassy sometimes.

For the second time that morning, Therissa explodes into laughter. 

By now, Violet can recognize when Therissa’s laughing to be mean and when she’s laughing for real, and this happens to be one of those rare times when it’s a genuine, happy-from-the-inside-out kind of laugh. The younger girl sits up a little straighter, feeling somewhat proud of herself for making her roommate laugh like this. It turns out to be almost contagious, too, because Violet has to try really hard to keep a straight face. 

“Relax, I promise I won’t make you look like a fairy princess or whatever. My shades _rock,”_ Therissa says confidently. “Besides, if you end up hating them, just take the polish off. No commitment needed.” 

Violet has never cared about makeup and nail polish and girly things like that, but the fact that _Therissa,_ the teenager who never used to want anything to do with either her or Brody, is extending an invitation to join her is such an unheard of occurrence that it’s kind of enticing. So Violet shrugs, forces out a sigh to feign disinterest, and sits deeper into her chair. “Fine.” 

“Pick a color, any color.”

All of Therissa’s nail polish is dark and dramatic, much like the teen herself. Her selection of colors may not be bright and bubbly, but they’re still rich and vibrant in their own way. It’s no surprise that there are two different shades of black in the mix as well. Leaning closer to get a better look at those two in particular, Violet immediately gets the urge to ask what in the _heck_ the difference between “Midnight Misery” and “Satan’s Satin” is, but, before she can, her gaze locks onto one particular bottle at the very end of the row. 

Inside the bottle is a gorgeous sapphire blue with swirls of silvery glitter, like an ocean of stars against the night sky. It’s mesmerizing, and Violet can’t quite take her eyes away. She’s never seen Therissa wear this color before. And it’s not that Violet wants to put it anywhere on herself, exactly… She kind of just wants to look at it. 

She must have stared for a little too long because Therissa, catching on, grabs the bottle in question with a teasing grin. “Did you always like sparkly things or is Brody rubbing off on you?” 

Violet’s ears feel hot. “I don’t! I was… I was just looking.”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” Therissa says. “Give me your hand.”

“ _What?_ ”

The teen raises an eyebrow. “Your hand, so I can do your nails. Duh.”

“R-right…” Violet clears her throat and timidly offers her left arm to Therissa, who takes her wrist and pulls it closer to her face. The first thing the younger girl notices is that her roommate’s hand is a lot softer and warmer than she expected. It makes her feel a little strange. 

“Gross, Violet, you need to stop biting your nails.”

Now completely and utterly mortified, Violet tries to yank her hand away, but Therissa holds on tight. 

“Uh-uh, I’m fixing this.” The teen fishes through her makeup box until she locates what she’s looking for—a pair of nail clippers. “Seriously. Don’t do that. It’s a disgusting habit.”

So Therissa clips the uneven, jagged tips of Violet’s chewed fingernails and only then starts to paint them. She works from left to right, from Violet’s little finger to her thumb, each stroke smooth, fluid and deliberate. It’s so much easier doing somebody else’s nails than her own. In no time at all, Therissa’s done with one hand and sets the brush down. “What do you think?”

“Um...”

“Don’t move your fingers or you’ll ruin them.”

Keeping her digits as stiff as she can, Violet rotates her wrist to examine her nails. The unfamiliar weight on her fingertips is totally new and is definitely one of the most bizarre sensations she’s felt in a long time. She answers honestly. “It feels kinda weird.”

Snorting, Therissa grabs Violet’s other hand so she can finish up. “Seriously, though. Don’t touch anything until they’re dry, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You know, Brody would kill to be in your place right now. Apparently her mom won’t let her paint her nails until she’s sixteen.” 

“How do you know?”

“I’ve read her diary.”

“You _what?_ ”

Therissa holds back a laugh. “It was one time, I swear. Like, last year. And that was before..." She trails off, stopping herself from finishing that sentence out loud. _Before we liked each other._ Therissa’s not in the mood to humiliate herself by admitting that she cares about Brody now and would never read her diary again. Time to change the subject. “Can you believe that, though? The only thing more ridiculous is the fact that she actually obeys that stupid rule.”

For the next several minutes, both girls are quiet while Therissa continues working on Violet’s nails. There’s something about sitting so close to one another, hands touching, that’s making this a little more intimate than either of them expected. They seem to have formed an unspoken agreement to just not say anything else until Therissa is finished. 

With one last swipe of glittery blue across Violet’s pinky, Therissa lets out a satisfied sigh and recaps her nail polish. “Done and done. Let’s get these dry and then you’ll be good to go.”

While Therissa gets her blow dryer set up again, Violet holds her hands out in front of her and stares at her new nails, unable to recognize them as her own. It almost feels like a stranger’s hands have somehow been fused to her wrists. There’s only one way to be sure. Violet takes a deep breath, then tries to wiggle her fingers.

And they move. 

These _are_ her hands. 

Out of her mouth slips a soft, breathy whisper. “...Holy shit.”

Smiling smugly, Therissa switches on the hair dryer and extends her open palm. By now, Violet knows the drill so she wordlessly gives her roommate her hand. Anything that she said wouldn’t be heard over the noise anyway. As Therissa dries her nails, Violet notices right away that the air is nice and cool against her skin, not warm like she expected. 

Once Violet’s fingertips have been under the dryer for long enough, Therissa switches the device off. “Well, congrats. You survived.”

After giving her fingernails another long, hard stare, Violet looks over at Therissa, only briefly meeting the teen’s eyes before having to look away. “Thanks, I guess…”

Therissa quickly waves it off. “Don’t mention it. Ever.” 

The younger girl stands and pushes her chair back to her own desk on the other side of the room, then plunks down on the unoccupied bottom bunk, sighing. 

“Do you really have nothing to do all weekend?” asks Therissa, leaning back in her chair and using Brody’s empty bed as a footrest. There’s no malicious intent behind the question. Violet can tell by her neutral tone that she’s not asking to make fun of her, but because she truly wants to know the answer. “I mean, like, isn’t there _anybody_ else you can hang out with?”

Violet merely shrugs, now appearing to be a little too interested in one of the scuffs on the floor. “I just don’t feel like it today.”

“Brody’s cool and all, but you really should try to find some other friends.”

The blonde picks her head up and peeks at her roommate, lips pursed in a sort of half-smile. “Did you just call Brody cool?”

“No! Shut up. I meant ‘cool’ in that... you know...” Therissa struggles to find the right words to convey how she feels about their other roommate. Thinking back to the other day, the night before Brody left, she can still picture the girl stuffing clothes into that gaudy yellow duffel bag of hers while excitedly rambling on and on in her quirky southern accent about all the things her family had planned for the weekend. “Like, that cute, geeky sort of way.”

Violet’s expression morphs into what Therissa would call a blood-boiling, shit-eating grin. “You called her _cute_.”

“God, Violet!” Therissa grabs the first object within reach—a nail file—and flings it in her direction. “I just meant that she’s a good kid.” Violet has the audacity to laugh, causing Therissa to jump up and lunge at her. “And _you’re_ infuriating!”

“I’m not laughing! I’m not—” Clearly laughing, Violet tries to fight Therissa off her, but the older girl easily pins her to the bed. 

“Laugh it up while you can, Blondie,” huffs Therissa, releasing Violet and dropping onto the mattress beside her. The teen waits for her roommate to get a grip on herself before laying down the law. “Here’s how it’s going to be, so listen up. You won’t mention this conversation to Brody, _ever_ , and I won’t tell her how miserable you are whenever she’s gone. Capisce?” 

The younger girl freezes. There is no way Brody can ever find out about that. Not that it’s true, of course, because it’s _not_... but Violet can’t have Therissa putting crazy ideas into her best friend’s head. And knowing Brody, she would totally believe her. Seeing as she doesn’t have much of a choice, Violet gives a weak thumbs-up. 

“You’ll live. It’s only four days.” 

Violet watches as Therissa pushes herself upright and goes back to her side of the room. The teen resumes cleaning up her desk and Violet, ignoring the slight twinge of disappointment in her chest, takes that as a sign that the two of them are done hanging out. Returning to her own bunk, Violet lies on her back, trying to come up with something to do for the rest of the day... and the three after that. 

Four more days...

“The hell are you doing back up there?”

Violet lifts her head at the sound of her roommate’s voice. Therissa’s standing there, hand on her hip and looking at her like she’s an idiot. There’s a stack of CDs and an old boom box on her desk where the nail polish and makeup used to be. 

“Come on, I’m gonna introduce you to some real music.”

A tiny smile forms on Violet’s face.

Maybe the next four days won’t be so bad after all.


	4. Brody

**Brody**

One of Brody’s favorite feelings in the whole world is the amazing sensation that comes from finally getting out of the car and stretching your legs after a long road trip. Stepping outside after being cooped up for hours, just getting to feel the earth beneath her feet again and breathing in all that fresh air... it’s absolutely glorious. The family SUV pulls up to the gates of Ericson Academy in the late afternoon and the auburn-haired girl hops out, sun-kissed and glowing from their trip to the coast. Spending time with her mom, dad and brothers out on the Chesapeake Bay made for a weekend straight out of a dream, but Brody’s so happy to be back. 

It’s a shame that not everyone feels the same way about Ericson’s. Brody loves it here, and these days she’s enjoying just about everything about her life at school. Just in case anybody asks, she has a list prepared of the three biggest reasons why she’s glad to be back home. Her second home, that is. That’s how much she likes her school.

One, she’s reading a wonderful book in English class and has been dying to find out what happens next! She meant to bring it with her over the weekend so she could get a head start on this week’s reading assignment, but she ended up forgetting it on her desk. Two, the pool is scheduled to open for the season in just a few more days! She’s been looking forward to it for weeks and has even been counting down the days on her calendar. Three, she can’t wait to see all of her friends! Even though she was only gone for a few days, she missed everyone a whole lot, especially her best friend, Violet, and her new friend... 

Actually, Brody’s not sure if “new friend” is the right way to describe Therissa. They’ve known each other for a long time. They’ve been roommates ever since Brody was ten. Even though Therissa was kind of moody and mean to her sometimes, she was always there whenever she really needed her. Brody never doubted that deep, deep down the grumpy teenager had a kind heart, even though she didn’t like to show it. Although Brody has always liked Therissa, it was mostly one-sided… or that’s how it felt, at least. But not anymore! Therissa has been so much nicer, and she even hangs out with her and Violet sometimes. Brody truly thinks that they can consider themselves to be _real_ friends now. And whenever she thinks about that, well, she feels like her heart could burst. 

That’s why Brody doesn’t shed a single tear while saying her goodbyes today. As much as she loves her family, and as much as she misses them while she’s at school, so much of Brody’s happiness is right here at Ericson’s. There are hugs and kisses all around, and as the rest of the Buresses pack into the car and drive away, Brody stands at the gates and waves until they’re completely out of sight. 

After that, though, she grabs her duffel bag and _runs_ through the school grounds, making a beeline straight back to the dormitories. Along the way, Brody passes lots of familiar faces, and she beams and waves to all of her friends. There’s Sheldon and Trey kicking around a hacky sack on the lawn by the admin building, and Brody pauses just for a minute to say hi to Maddie and Erin who are having a clapping game competition by the courtyard fountain, but then she continues onward to the residence hall. In her rush to get upstairs to her bedroom, she almost forgets to check in with the dorm leader to let her know that she’s back, but once everything’s taken care of, she heads down the hall to the central staircase.

Halfway upstairs, Brody spots a certain somebody immediately. The girl is sitting on the arm of one of the chairs in the lounge, chatting with a few others, and even though she’s facing the opposite direction and Brody can’t see her face, she would recognize that long blonde hair anywhere.

“Vi!”

Violet knows that voice. She whips her head around. “Brody?”

Dropping her bag in the middle of the floor, Brody rushes over to Violet and throws her arms around her in an enormous hug. The sudden impact causes Violet to lose her balance and both girls fall in a heap into the seat of the armchair. This sends Brody into a fit of giggles, but she squeezes her friend tighter than ever. Violet is a little squished and her elbow is jammed uncomfortably into that crevice between the chair arm and the seat cushion, but she hugs Brody back as best as she can from her position underneath her. 

Violet reaches her limit when she starts to lose feeling in her arms. Her neck is also starting to hurt. “Okay, get off me, please…”

Still beaming, Brody untangles herself from her friend and stands back up. “Did you miss me?”

“You were only gone for four days.”

“I know, but I still missed _you_.”

Brody has always been observant. She pays attention to little details that most people overlook, and she has a sharp eye for noticing even the most minor changes, like when somebody parts their hair to the opposite side, or when they leave two buttons open on their shirt instead of one. When Erin changed the color of her braces bands from turquoise to teal, Brody was the only one who could tell. 

So when Violet gets up from the chair and dusts herself off, allowing her friend to get a good look at her for the first time since she got back, Brody spots the difference right away. 

“Whoa, Vi, your nails!” 

Violet instinctively takes a step back and tries to hide her hands behind her back. 

“Wait! Let me see!” Having grown up with two older brothers, Brody wrestles Violet’s limbs from behind her with ease. She gasps, jaw dropping open. “You… When did you paint your nails?” 

“I… I didn’t—”

“They’re so pretty,” gushes Brody, voice full of admiration and just a pinch of envy. “Oh, you’re so lucky! Did you do them yourself?” 

The extra attention makes Violet feel kind of embarrassed and she scratches the back of her neck with her free hand. “No, it’s just… Therissa asked, so I let her.”

Brody goes quiet as her brain reels. _Therissa?_ Therissa never lets anyone touch her stuff. Therissa never invites _them_ to hang out… it’s always the other way around. “She did?”

“Yeah,” Violet says, wriggling her arm free. “It’s not a big deal. Come on, Louis said that they’re giving away popsicles in the cafeteria today. Wanna grab one?”

Normally, a popsicle would have been the perfect ending to a perfect weekend, but hearing that her roommates spent time together without her is making Brody wish that she stayed at school over the weekend as well. Now she just feels disappointed that she missed out on a lot of fun. Painting their nails together? Something like that is a billion times more special than a fruity frozen treat. Brody holds her hands out in front of her. Just think, if she had only stayed behind another day or two, she might have colorful fingernails right now, too! 

“Hello? Popsicles?” Violet repeats. “Are you coming or what?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Brody agrees quickly, trying to shake off these not-so-happy feelings threatening to ruin her good mood. “Let me drop my stuff off in our room first.”

During the walk to their bedroom, Brody tries to convince herself that there’s nothing to be upset about. Now that she’s back at school, maybe Therissa will offer to paint her nails, too. Of course, her mother wouldn’t approve. In the Burress household, the rule about that always has been, and always will be, _no makeup or nail polish until she’s older._ On one hand, Brody knows that she shouldn’t go behind her mother’s back, but on the other… 

If Therissa asked…

Oh, there’s no way she could say no!

Brody has to admit that there are times when she gets a tiny, nagging feeling inside her that maybe Therissa doesn’t like her as much as she likes Violet. It’s easier for Therissa and Violet to crack jokes with each other because they have a similar sense of humor. Recently, they’ve started teasing each other a lot more than usual, but not in a way that’s meant to be mean. It reminds Brody of the silly way that she and her siblings act around one another. Therissa doesn’t do that with her, though. Only with Violet. 

And sometimes that makes Brody feel a little left out. 

During their last session, Dr. Larson told her that affection can take on many shapes, and it’s common for people to show it in different ways depending on who they’re with. In other words, just because Therissa acts a certain way with Violet doesn’t mean that she likes her any less. Even though this makes sense in Brody’s head, her heart could really use a reminder. She’s hoping that Therissa will be there when she gets to their room because, _surely,_ just talking to the teen again like normal will be enough proof that everything’s fine and that she’s just worrying for nothing. 

After all, they _are_ real friends now. 

Right?


	5. Shell Shocked

**Shell Shocked**

> March 21, 2001 
> 
> Dear Diary,
> 
> Ms. Martin came to check on me last night and took my temperature. The good news is my fever’s finally gone! The bad news is I still feel kind of lousy. Can you believe that my cough seems to have gotten worse instead of better? I won’t go into detail (because it’s really icky) but it sounds AWFUL!! Other than that though, I guess I’m okay.
> 
> Starting today I’m allowed to eat in the cafeteria again but I don’t have much of an appetite yet. Oh, that reminds me!!! Every day I was sick I woke up and saw that somebody left snacks for me on my desk. Mostly juice boxes, fruits, and crackers but once there was a cup of red jello! I just know it was Therissa. I thanked her yesterday but she pretended to have no idea what I was talking about. I hope Therissa doesn’t catch my cold, but if she ever does get sick one day I want to do something nice for her, too.
> 
> B.B.

It isn’t a bump in the night nor the ringing of her alarm clock that wakes Brody this morning. The girl jolts upright in her bed with a start, a nightmare bringing an abrupt end to what was a restless, fitful sleep anyway. Ever since she got back to school the other day, Brody’s had a serious case of the blues. There’s been something troubling on her mind that just hasn’t been able to shake off, no matter how hard she’s tried. 

It’s her roommate, Therissa. 

Sometimes, when Brody fixates on something so intensely, to the extent that it’s the _only_ thing she thinks about all day, it slithers into her dreams and continues to plague her while she’s asleep. And that’s exactly what’s happening now. To be honest, Brody is actually sort of glad that she woke up when she did. Dream Brody had come back to her room after a long day of classes only to discover all of her belongings dumped in a huge pile in the middle of the hallway. Her bedroom door was locked, which, in itself, wasn’t out of the ordinary, but when her dream self tried to unlock it, she found that her key no longer fit. And then Therissa... _Dream_ Therissa appeared, who sneered at her and told her to find somewhere else to live because she was no longer welcome there.

It was a horrible dream, to say the least.

Brody can’t put her finger on it, but something feels off. For one thing, her reunion with Therissa was not at all like she imagined. It was late in the evening, and she and Violet had been in the bathroom getting ready for bed when she realized that she forgot to bring her toothbrush along. Letting Violet know that she would be right back, Brody zipped back down the hall to their bedroom to grab it... and that’s when it happened. 

_It_ being the conversation that still haunts her days later. 

_With hair still wet from the shower and baby blue bath towel draped over her shoulders like a scarf, Brody opens the door to her bedroom. Therissa hasn’t been in all evening, so the girl isn’t expecting her to be there now, especially because their bedroom was empty when she and Violet left not even twenty minutes ago. But there she is. Therissa sits comfortably, cell phone in hand and feet propped up against the edge of her desk, looking as though she could have been there all along._

_“Oh!” The teenager’s presence catches Brody by surprise and, for some strange reason, she almost feels a little nervous. “Therissa. Hi.”_

_Therissa barely looks up before turning her eyes back to her phone. “Oh, hey. You’re back.”_

_“How was your weekend?” Brody asks, fidgety fingers playing with the doorknob._

_“Meh,” Therissa replies flatly, preoccupied with clacking away at the tiny keypad in her hands. “Uneventful.”_

_Brody waits for the conversation to progress, but the question never comes back to her. Suddenly remembering that she has something special for Therissa, she drops to her knees next to her duffel bag and digs through its contents until she finds what she’s looking for. Brody approaches the teen from the side, holding something tightly in her fist. “So, I went to the beach with my—”_

_“I know,” interrupts Therissa, cutting her roommate off mid-sentence. “You talked about it for, like, a week.”_

_Brody’s lips form into a slight pout at the older girl’s icy tone. Therissa doesn’t seem to be in a very good mood. Maybe this isn’t the best time to give her this souvenir. Or, actually, maybe it’s the perfect time. Gifts make people happy, right? In all her life, she’s never met anyone whose day doesn’t get a little brighter after receiving a present. Taking a deep breath, Brody opens her palm. “I got you this.”_

_Finally breaking her eyes away from her phone, Therissa looks. In Brody’s hand is a small, creamy white sea shell mixed with streaks of sunset orange. The shell is shaped like a horn with a pretty spiral at the wide end, its surface smooth, shiny and unblemished. Therissa’s expression softens and Brody is relieved, taking this as a sign that everything might be fine between them after all. Thank goodness. She was getting worried there for a second._

_“Wow, the empty husk of a dead sea creature.”_

_Brody wilts. Sarcastic joke or not, the comment still kind of hurts. “I thought it was really pretty. I figured maybe you could put it on your bookshelf or something.”_

_“Thanks.”_

_When Therissa reaches over to take the offering, Brody notices right away that her roommate’s fingernails are now a different color than when she saw them last. And then she remembers. There’s just one little thing that she wants from her roommate_ — _something that would make her the happiest girl in the world and would make every doubt she’s had about their newfound friendship disappear just like that. Something that would reassure her that Therissa does, in fact, enjoy spending time with her and likes her just as much as she likes Violet._

_Brody doesn’t want to outright say that she wants Therissa to do her nails. In order for it to count, she needs the invitation to come from the teen herself. But that doesn’t mean she can’t try to prompt the idea with little hints, though. Keeping her fingers on both hands crossed for good luck, Brody tries one last time to get Therissa to talk to her. “Vi told me y’all got to hang out together this weekend. What did ya’ll do?”_

_With a slight huff, Therissa slides her phone shut. “Brody, seriously. We didn’t do anything special.”_

_The younger girl clams up, picking up on the annoyance in her roommate’s voice. Why is Therissa being like this? Did she do something to make her mad? Brody replays their conversation in her head a couple times, but she’s unable to pinpoint where things might have gone wrong. Things_ shouldn’t _have gone wrong._

_Noticing Brody’s silence, Therissa lets out a long sigh. “Look, if you actually want to hear about our boring weekend, I’m sure V will tell you all about it. Why don’t you ask her?”_

_V?_

_V as in Violet?_

_Brody remembers every name that Therissa’s ever called her over the years,_ _mostly because none of them have been particularly nice. Weirdo. Dweeb. Pigtails. Sunshine_ … _which may sound sweet by itself, but not in the way the teen meant it. None of these count as nicknames, though._ _They’re just mean names. Therissa’s never called her by a nickname before._

_Their conversation comes to an end after that, and Therissa doesn’t talk to her for the rest of the night. Brody really believed that talking to Therissa again would make everything better, but, instead, it’s left her feeling more worried than before. Could it be possible that she somehow just imagined that she and Therissa were friends? After what just happened, it’s certainly not impossible._

_Maybe Therissa just never liked her in the first place._

__

> November 8, 2002 
> 
> Dear Diary,
> 
> I don’t have much time because I need to get back to the auditorium, but I’m happy to report that my speech was a success!! I really owe it to Therissa for helping me practice. I never thought that I’d be able to speak in front of that many people without crying or running away or passing out or something. I mean, remember last year when I froze up during that group presentation on Sacagawea? My voice got so shaky that I couldn’t even talk and Meghan had to read my part for me.
> 
> I started feeling a little queasy backstage because of how nervous I was. Then when it was my turn, I almost couldn’t get my legs to take me to the podium. The lights up there were so bright and the entire room was full of people staring at me. It was SO scary!!! But then I remembered what Therissa told me about looking out at that line where the back wall touches the floor instead of the audience, and then...
> 
> There she was, standing right by the doors! Yes, Therissa came to watch my speech instead of going to class! She gave me a thumbs up and after that I knew I could do it. I just kept looking at her the whole time, like when we practiced in our room, and it didn’t even feel like there was anybody else there. Amazing, right? It was all over so quickly. 
> 
> I promise I'll write more later!
> 
> B.B.

What Brody likes the most about her diary—other than the actual act of writing inside it, of course—is the fact that it gives her the power to travel back in time and relive the most memorable moments of her life. If she’s feeling sad, looking back at old entries from her happiest days always lifts her spirits. If she’s feeling lonely, getting to read about the amazing times that she’s spent with her family and friends always puts a smile on her face. Even when her memories start to fade, when the finer details start to get fuzzy as the days, weeks and years go by, they still live on within these pages, as clear as the day they happened.

The bedroom glows a dim blue, telling Brody that it’s that part of the morning just before dawn, when the sky is just barely starting to light up. She flips through page after page in her diary, straining her eyes to make out what’s written on them in the dark, desperately searching for a memory— _any_ memory about Therissa that will comfort her. Brody has come across a few already that should have been able to put her heart at ease, reminding her that the teenager does care about her, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. What began as a knot in her belly has progressed into an uncomfortable tightness in her chest, and now it’s infecting her lungs and traveling up into her throat, which now feels like it’s closing up.

The little blue book falls into her lap, instantly forgotten, as all that Brody can think about now is the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears, the sensation of her chest cavity caving in on itself, and the fogginess in her head. All signs of an oncoming panic attack. Before things have time to escalate, Brody squeezes her eyes shut, takes a slow, deep breath and starts to count. 

And as Brody counts, she breathes, matching each of her breaths to a number like a metronome keeping time. She focuses on how the hard, wooden headboard feels against her back. She listens to the faint ticking of the alarm clock on the desk beside her. The sound of her own voice inside her head. _You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay._

After a couple of minutes, Brody finds herself in the clear. Although the feeling of panic has passed, the worry remains, hanging heavy on her heart. Whenever Brody comes out of an anxiety attack or, in this case, an _almost_ attack, she likes to turn to her loved ones to help take her mind off things. The same goes for when she has nightmares. Up until now, Brody’s go-to source of solace for both has always been Therissa, even back when she first got to the school. Violet makes her feel better, too, of course. Brody loves her best friend and trusts her with all of her secrets, but there’s just something about seeking comfort from somebody older that never fails to make Brody feel extra safe. 

For the first time ever, Brody feels like she _can’t_ go to Therissa, and it’s the worst feeling in the world. So, instead of climbing up the ladder to her roommate’s bunk and crawling into bed with her like she usually would, Brody forces herself to stay right where she is. She can still hear Dream Therissa’s voice echoing in her head.

_“I always hated having you as my roommate.”_

Closing her diary, Brody lies back down and hugs the book to her chest. Blinking back tears, she curls onto her side facing the wall. There’s no way she’s going to class today. She _can’t_. Not when she feels like this. She doesn’t think she has it in her to face Therissa right now, even if it’s just seeing her in the same room while they get ready for school. Brody buries her head underneath her pillow and wills herself to go back to sleep. If she’s lucky, maybe she’ll feel better when she wakes up… though something in the back of her mind tells her not to count on it.


	6. Bend and Break

**Bend and Break**

When Brody shuts off her alarm without immediately getting out of bed, Violet assumes that her friend is just extra tired this morning and wants to get in a few more minutes of rest. Now that she thinks back on it, though, that should’ve been her first clue that something wasn’t quite right. Brody never oversleeps and never hits _snooze._

Nevertheless, Violet lets her be and finishes getting ready on her own, and when she returns to their bedroom she finds Therissa and her backpack already gone, meaning that their older roommate has already left for breakfast, or whatever it is that teenagers do in the morning before class. At first glance, the room seems empty, so Violet figures that maybe she somehow missed Brody on her way back from the bathroom, but then she steps farther inside and almost does a double-take. There’s a perfectly Brody-sized lump underneath the blankets, still in exactly the same spot as Violet saw her last. 

“What are you doing?” Violet asks incredulously. “We’re gonna be late.”

When she’s met with complete silence, Violet’s first thought is that Brody is still asleep. A rare opportunity has presented itself… she just _has_ to take it. Lips curling into a mischievous grin, Violet leaps onto the bed, crawls right on top of the other girl and sits on her legs. She pokes Brody in the side with her finger, knowing full well that her best friend is extremely ticklish there. “Brody, wake up.”

Brody jolts slightly, letting out a small, squeaky yelp, and the reaction sends Violet into a fit of giggles. 

“Seriously, though,” says Violet, getting to her feet, “if we don’t leave in, like, ten minutes, we’re gonna miss breakfast.”

Instead of jumping right up and freaking out about being late for class like Violet expected, Brody sinks deeper into her blankets until her head disappears under the covers. When she finally speaks, her voice is muffled and barely audible. “I’m not going.”

“What?” Raising an eyebrow, Violet yanks the blankets away and grabs Brody by the arms, pulling her upright. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Can you tell Ms. Martin that I don’t feel good?” Brody’s shoulders slump and she reminds Violet of the sad, floppy ragdoll that used to sit on a shelf at her grandparents’ house. Even her voice is quiet and weary, lacking its usual spark.

“Are you sick or something?”

Brody draws her legs up to her chest and hugs her knees, keeping her eyes downcast. She gives a small shake of her head. “No, but…” 

There is _definitely_ something wrong with Brody. Violet, starting to worry a bit, takes a seat on the mattress and scoots closer to her friend. “Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t… I don’t know what to do, Vi…” 

Violet tries her best to follow, but she has no idea what Brody’s talking about. Whatever it is, she knows that it’s got to be serious. She hasn’t seen her friend this upset in a long time. “What’s wrong?” 

Brody’s voice cracks. “Everything!”

The more emotional Brody gets, the more tense Violet feels. Big feelings make her uneasy and she never knows how to handle them. And this time, they’re not even _hers_. When it comes to Brody, Violet’s number one priority is diffusing the situation as soon as possible because there’s nothing worse than seeing her best friend upset. The scariest thing about these situations actually has nothing to do with how overwhelming they can be—it's that Violet gets so worried that she won’t know the right thing to say or do to make Brody feel better. 

Right now, in their room, it’s just the two of them. No backup. Violet’s confidence falters. “Should I get Therissa?”

“No!” 

The answer is shrill and comes a little too quickly.

“Okay,” Violet says cautiously, raising her hands in defense, “that’s a thing I’m _not_ gonna do.”

“Sorry...” Brody lowers her voice and her eyes turn apologetic. “Vi, I don’t… I don’t think Therissa likes me.”

Violet gives a small sigh. At this rate, they’re definitely not going to have time for breakfast. She might even be late for class, too. Not that she really cares that much, anyway. Brody is way more important. Violet makes herself comfortable, moving into the space next to her friend so they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder. “Did something happen?”

“She seemed mad at me the other day, when I got back,” Brody explains, voice softer than Violet’s ever heard it before, “a-and I don’t… I don’t know _why…”_

Violet listens as Brody’s voice grows dangerously higher in pitch with every word. 

“Has she ever said anything to you? Like, maybe… maybe I get on her nerves because I talk to her too much, or that I’m annoying, or… something…?” 

“I don’t think she _hates_ you,” Violet says, intending for her statement to be reassuring, but she immediately regrets her choice of words because the girl next to her starts to cry. “I mean, she talks to us sometimes, right?”

“She likes _you,_ Vi. You did your nails together... _”_ Brody pauses to wipe her eyes with her pajama sleeves. “I think she only does stuff with us because you’re there. I’ve lived with her for almost three years and she’s never asked me to do anything with her…”

This is the second time Brody’s brought up the whole nail painting thing, so she really must have wanted to be there. If Violet could go back in time, she would tell Therissa that she would only let her do her nails if she promised to do Brody’s, too. Actually, that’s not a bad idea... Violet sits up a little straighter. Maybe they should just talk to Therissa about all of this! “Hey, maybe we should go talk to her. I mean, you guys could work out your stuff, and then we could just ask if she could paint your—”

“Vi, no!” Brody cries, sounding appalled. “We can’t!”

Once again, it seems like Violet has unintentionally said the wrong thing. “Or, you know, we could _not_ do that, either.”

“We can’t mention any of this to Therissa, okay?” Brody turns to Violet and speaks in a serious, almost pleading tone. “I don’t wanna bother her. Vi, you can’t tell her. Promise me you won’t.”

“Okay, fine, I won’t,” says Violet, somewhat reluctantly. Even though she’s not keen on leaving Therissa in the dark, especially when she believes that talking to the teen will solve everything, she doesn’t want to upset Brody further. At least she’s no longer crying. “Are you really not going to class today?”

Brody shakes her head, face turning gloomy again. “I… I just need some time.”

“Do you...” Violet clears her throat. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

For the first time that day, Brody smiles, even if it’s just a small fraction of her usual hundred-watt grin. “No, it’s okay. You have that math quiz today, don’t you?”

The blonde girl groans. “I was trying to forget about that.”

“Thank you, though,” says Brody, putting an arm through Violet’s and leaning her head against her shoulder for just a moment. “You always make things better.”

Violet can feel her cheeks heating up. 

And _that’s_ her cue to leave.

After promising to let Ms. Martin know that Brody would be absent today, Violet goes over to her side of the room to grab her belongings. Just like every morning, she slips into her sneakers and slings her backpack over her shoulder, but something feels off. It’s weird to be leaving without Brody. Pausing in the doorway, Violet takes one last look at her friend, who waves goodbye, before pulling the door closed behind her.

If she really wanted to, Violet could probably zip down to the cafeteria with just enough time to snag a banana or granola bar to scarf down before her first class, but there’s somewhere else she wants to go instead. Somewhere more important. She hurries across campus and heads straight to the main hall where the majority of the classes at Ericson’s take place. The classrooms on the ground floor and second floor belong to the lower and intermediate school. By now, Violet knows the entire layout of the first two floors like the back of her hand. She could tell you which drinking fountains have the coldest water, which floorboards to step over so you don’t trip and fall on your face, and even which bathroom stalls to avoid due to broken locks or toilets that don’t always flush. There’s one more level in the building, though, but Violet has never been up there before. 

Until now, that is.

At the very top of the staircase is the third floor, where the high school classes are held. This is uncharted territory for Violet, but she finds herself making her way down the hallway full of strangers anyway. Amidst the teenagers and teachers who are all bigger and taller than she is, tiny Violet sticks out like a sore thumb. This draws a lot of unwanted attention, but she pushes on, doing her best to ignore the head turns, the stares and the whispers. There isn’t very much time left. Violet moves as fast as she can, popping her head into every classroom she passes as she looks for one teen in particular. 

“You lost, kid?” Somebody calls out to her, but Violet quickly ducks out of sight without looking to see who it is. It’s not a voice she recognizes. Not the voice she’s listening out for. 

The only thing Violet cares about right now is helping Brody, even if that means breaking—

No, not quite _breaking_. 

Even if that means _bending_ her promise a little. 

Violet really needs to talk to Therissa. She just hopes she can find her before the bell rings.


	7. Message Sent

**Message Sent**

Leave it to Little Miss Violet to keep Therissa on her toes by constantly coming up with new and improved ways to embarrass the hell out of her. There she is at her desk, minding her own business and chatting with some of her friends before homeroom when the bell rings. Therissa turns to face the front of the room, ready for another uneventful day to start, but instead of hearing her teacher’s monotonous voice start roll call, the classroom door bursts open and in stumbles some random kid, probably from the middle or elementary school judging by her size, who must have gotten lost on her way to class. Therissa rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Seriously, some of these little twerps are so clueless.

Whatever. That's not her problem. Therissa pulls out a pen, spins it on her fingers a few times, then starts to doodle on the edge of her notebook.

“Yo, Girl,” whispers Nadia from behind her, “isn’t that your roommate?”

Her first instinct is to laugh because there’s _no freaking way_ , but then her eyes widen when she realizes her friend isn’t messing around. Therissa whips her head towards the door and narrows her eyes, trying to get a better look. From her seat in the back corner of the room, it’s hard for her to make out any facial features, but whoever it is has the same light blonde hair and is just as lanky as…

“Oh my god,” Therissa mutters to herself, standing abruptly and storming over to the door. She grabs Violet by the arm and drags her out into the hallway, ignoring her teacher calling after her to get back inside. Once they’re far enough to not be overheard, Therissa frowns down at her unexpected visitor and speaks in an agitated but hushed voice. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

Violet breaks free from the teen’s grasp and rubs her sore arm. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“And this really couldn’t have waited until later?” 

“It’s Brody.”

“What happened?” Noticing that her roommate looks somewhat distressed, Therissa starts to feel a tad worried herself. A million different scenarios play through her mind. Knowing Brody, it could be anything. Is she sick? Did she twist her ankle doing ballerina spins too close to the stairs again? Or, god forbid, could she have had another anxiety attack? Therissa hopes it’s not the latter. Brody hasn’t had a big one in such a long time. “You guys aren’t fighting again, are you?” 

Violet shakes her head. “No, no, it’s just... I think there’s something bothering her. She was saying all this weird stuff... and, like, she just seemed really upset.”

“Where is she?”

“Our room. She wouldn’t get out of bed,” says Violet, looking at her shoes. “Um, remember when you did my nails a few days ago?” 

Unsure of where this is going, Therissa raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, why?”

“Well, like, I think she’s sad that she missed out… and now she thinks that she did something wrong, or that you hate her or something.”

Therissa didn’t know what she was expecting, but this is definitely not it. “She seriously said that?”

“Yeah, something like that. She didn’t want me to tell you, but…” Violet trails off, voice full of guilt. “I just thought you should know.” 

Biting back a string of curse words, Therissa closes her eyes and takes a slow, deep breath. Dealing with an emotional Brody wasn’t exactly on the list of things she wanted to do today, but she has to fix… whatever this is. She can’t believe this is happening. “Please don’t tell me she cried.”

Violet looks up at her sheepishly. “Kinda sorta.”

“Shit.” Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Therissa takes a moment to process all of this information and figure out what her next step should be. “Okay, look, I’ll go talk to her. You need to get to class. We can’t have both of you missing or they’re gonna think I had something to do with it.”

Therissa only manages to shoo Violet away after reassuring her that, yes, she swears that she’s going to check in with Brody as soon as class is over. The little messenger hesitates for a moment longer, but then she nods and disappears down the stairs to, hopefully, whatever class she’s already supposed to be in. Therissa heads back to her own classroom as well, making sure to look cool and calm when she walks through the door so people don’t bombard her with questions. A few of her classmates stare as she silently returns to her seat, but she ignores them until they eventually lose interest and turn back to the front of the room. 

Class resumes, and although Therissa tends to space out during this teacher’s unnecessarily lengthy, certified-to-put-you-to-sleep lectures to begin with, this morning she’s finding it particularly difficult to pay attention. Her mind starts to wander, and she finds herself completely and utterly preoccupied with thoughts about her auburn-haired roommate. Something about what Violet said just isn’t sitting well with her. Therissa’s a typical teenager—that’s how she sees herself, at least—so of course she’s already got a lot on her own plate. There are so many other things that would be a much better use of her time than literally sitting here worrying about Brody. 

And yet, here she is. 

Since when did she care so damn much? 

This isn’t like the time Violet went M.I.A. for a few hours. It’s different. The fact that Brody is apparently upset _because_ of her has left Therissa with a sickish feeling in her gut, kind of like how she feels after a whole day of binging on nothing but greasy junk food. Okay, sure, she and Violet did spend some time together over the long weekend and, yeah, she did do Violet’s nails, but Brody just wasn’t there when it happened. Therissa wasn’t trying to make anyone feel left out. Not once did she think that her other roommate would take it the wrong way. And besides, Brody’s not even _allowed_ to use nail polish. 

Therissa leans her head against her hand and bites her lip in vexation. Maybe that’s the problem. She didn’t _think._ Knowing how emotional that kid can get sometimes, Therissa should have realized sooner that something like this might upset her. Brody admires her nail polish collection enough to write about it, after all. The teen lets out a sigh, looking up at the clock. She needs to sort this out as soon as possible. There’s a short break between second and third period, so her current plan is to use that time to run back to the dorms and talk to Brody. Her roommate just needs to hang in there for another couple of hours.

But Violet said she _cried_. 

Call her a huge, lame softie or whatever, but there’s something about her kid roommates crying that Therissa just can’t stand. Before she can have time to talk herself out of it, Therissa leaps up, hastily shoving her things into her backpack, and starts heading for the door. 

“Ms. Lannister, we’re in the middle of class. Where do you think you’re going?” 

As Therissa passes her teacher, she catches a glimpse of the idiotic, dumbfounded look on his face and almost cracks up. “Sorry… _not_. Family emergency.”

The classroom erupts into a buzz of murmurs and Therissa can hear the teacher calling after her again, but she doesn’t look back. Once outside, she reaches into her back pocket for her phone and slides the keyboard open, muscle memory allowing her fingers to navigate through several menus to her contacts list almost instantly. Therissa scrolls down until she finds the name she’s looking for, then taps _enter_ and types out a quick text. 

_hey i need u 2 do me a favor  
will call u l8r_

Therissa lingers for a second after hitting _send_ , watching the tiny, pixelated envelope on the screen disappear into a tiny, pixelated mail box. A window pops up: _message sent._ That’s all the confirmation she needs. Closing the device and slipping it back into her pocket, Therissa readjusts the position of her backpack strap on her shoulder before setting off towards the dorms. 

Time to set things straight with Brody once and for all.


	8. Bluebird

**Bluebird**

Not very long after Violet leaves, there’s a polite knock on the bedroom door and Ms. Martin, the school nurse, comes in with her bag of supplies. As is protocol for whenever a student claims to be too unwell to go to class, the first thing Ms. Martin does is take Brody’s temperature. Even before the tip of the thermometer is placed in her mouth, Brody already knows that the results are going to come back normal, which, of course, they do. She’s not that kind of sick. 

With a fever ruled out, Ms. Martin follows up by asking Brody if she has any cold symptoms, like a cough, or any dizziness, or if she’s feeling any pain anywhere in her body. Brody understands that the nurse is looking for signs of headache-y, snotty, barfy types of sickness, none of which she’s experiencing at the moment, so all she can answer is no. It’s her heart that’s feeling under the weather, and this type of hurt can’t be fixed with medicine or band-aids. 

Maybe her feelings are written all over her face, or maybe Ms. Martin just _gets_ her, but suddenly the woman’s eyes soften and she gives Brody a comforting smile. In a gentle voice, Ms. Martin tells her that she’s going to let Dr. Larson know, and that the two of them can meet a little later to talk about what’s going on. Brody nods and thanks her, and then Ms. Martin packs up and heads back to her office, leaving her patient with warm wishes to feel better soon. 

Brody burrows back into bed, suddenly feeling exhausted as the emotional weight on her shoulders and her poor night’s sleep finally catch up to her. Yawning, she nuzzles into her pillow and closes her eyes, already starting to nod off. 

Unfortunately, the promise of a much needed nap is short-lived. The sound of footsteps approaching and the doorknob rattling cause Brody’s eyes to snap back open. Breath catching in her throat, she stiffens and shrinks further into bed, pulling the covers over her head. 

Familiar footfalls and the distinct thumping of clunky combat boots against the floorboards tell Brody who’s there without her having to look. The girl lies as still as she can, listening to the sound of wood scraping against wood as her roommate drags her chair across the room and places it right next to her bed. There’s a slight creak and the rustling of clothing as Therissa takes a seat, but then there’s silence. 

Brody swallows thickly. If she pretends to be asleep, maybe Therissa will leave her alone. 

“So,” Therissa starts, eyeing the girl currently hiding under her blankets, “a little blonde birdie told me that someone’s playing hooky.”

In the next second, the covers are being lifted from her head and Brody finds herself face to face with Therissa. For some reason, Brody’s first thought is that her roommate is going to scold her, so she braces herself for the worst. 

“I also heard she’s upset with me.”

There’s no anger in Therissa’s voice, nor any traces of hostility in her posture, but Brody seems to panic and she frantically shakes her head. “No! N-no, I’m… That’s not… I’m not, I promise.”

Therissa’s not stupid, and her roommate isn’t being very convincing in the first place, so she’s not buying it. The teen gives Brody a moment, just to see if she’ll say anything else on the matter, but it soon becomes clear that it’s going to require some more careful poking and prodding to get anything else out of her. Brody’s having trouble looking her in the eyes and doesn’t seem to want to talk. 

And Brody has never _not_ wanted to talk to Therissa before. 

“Okay, well, whatever it is… let’s talk about it. That’s what Dr. Larson says, right?” Therissa tries a different approach, hoping to connect with her roommate by using one of Brody’s favorite, often quoted, pieces of advice. 

Brody pulls her blankets up to her chin, gripping the fabric anxiously. “How much did Vi tell you?”

“Just that you were bummed about missing out on some of the stuff we did over the weekend. Is that really what’s got you so down?” 

“Sorry...” apologizes Brody in a small voice, avoiding eye contact. 

“Hate to break it to you, but I don’t accept sorries from people who have no reason to be,” Therissa tells her, keeping her tone gentle. 

Brody peeks up at the older girl. “You’re not mad?”

“No, I’m not. Why would I be?”

The younger girl blinks, still trying to process what Therissa’s saying, and over the next several seconds an overwhelming combination of emotions hits her all at once. On one hand, she’s so relieved that Therissa’s talking to her again. And she’s not mad at her! And she seems to really care about how she’s feeling! If Brody had wings, this would have her soaring high in the sky, hundreds of feet off the ground, doing loop-de-loops and all sorts of whimsical spins to express her elation.

Or, at least, that’s how she might have felt if the events from the other night hadn’t happened.

Instead, Brody feels more like a bird that’s had her flight feathers clipped. Even though part of her feels like jumping for joy, she can’t. Not when she hasn’t forgotten how cold Therissa was the night she came back from her trip. How the teenager brushed her off and made her feel like a nuisance. 

“Also, just for the record, I don’t hate you,” Therissa adds as an afterthought, filling in some of the silence as she waits for the other girl to speak. 

Little does the teenager know that those are exactly the words Brody had been hoping to hear. 

And they send her over the edge. 

“Shit,” Therissa mutters under her breath. In the span of mere seconds, Brody has gone from quiet and pensive to bawling her eyes out. The teenager moves from her chair to the bed and gestures for the younger girl to sit up. “Come on. Up.”

Brody chokes out a shuddery sob but complies, pushing herself upright. 

“Hey, talk to me,” coaxes Therissa gently, placing a hand on the crying girl’s back, in between her shoulder blades. “What’s wrong?”

“I missed you…!” Brody cries as everything she’s been keeping inside starts to bubble over the surface. “I know it was only four days, but I did! So when… when I came back from the bathroom and you were there, I was really happy to see you…! But you… It was like you didn’t wanna talk to me…!” 

With every shaky breath and sob, Brody puts her innermost feelings about the other night into words for the first time. The girl feels kind of like a can of pop that’s been shaken and shaken, and now that Therissa’s flipped open the tab everything is exploding out. Deep, raw feelings that Brody didn’t even know were there _—_ ones she hasn’t even confessed to her diary yet _—_ come pouring out straight from her heart in a seemingly endless stream. It reminds her of the time when she accidentally broke the spigot off the lemonade dispenser at the family barbeque last summer. Brody froze, startled, when the tap snapped off and she just stood there, unable to do anything except watch in horror as the entire jug drained out onto the patio, splashing sticky beverage all over her sandals and forming a gigantic puddle beneath her feet. 

It’s taking an incredible amount of effort for Brody to get her words out while also making sure that they’re coherent enough for Therissa to understand. From this alone, the teenager knows that she needs to do more than just listen. Brody needs her to really _hear_ what she’s saying. So Therissa sits quietly and gives Brody her full attention. She owes the girl that much, at least. 

“So… I reckoned... maybe I was bugging you… or maybe I annoy you ‘cause I talk… talk to you too much…” Brody’s speech is riddled with hiccups and gasps as her lungs desperately try to suck in enough air to keep up. “I… I-I just... wanna be a good roommate… I want you to like me…”

The longer Brody blubbers, the more Therissa remembers about that night. 

For pretty much the entire weekend, her family had been on her ass, bombarding her with text messages and calls, not that Therissa even bothered answering the latter. Her mother, for a reason that the teen frankly couldn’t care less about, called her eight times in one day. And that, if she’s being honest, is already way more than the woman has phoned her in all seventeen years of her life. Therissa hadn’t heard a peep from her mother in nearly three years, so why _now_? Not once did she call _—_ or write, or email, or text _—_ to see how Therissa was doing at Ericson’s. Not once did she send her daughter any sort of gift on Christmas or her birthday. Therissa is ashamed to admit that for two years she still held out a stupid, pathetic sliver of hope that she would hear something _—anything—_ from the woman, but after that she just gave up. It wasn’t worth the disappointment. 

As if that wasn’t enough to deal with, even her sister had been texting her about it. Saying how Mom was trying to get in touch with her, so she should answer her calls. The first time Therissa read that, she laughed. Why would she want to talk to her mother after all of that? More importantly, why _should_ she? 

Needless to say, on the night Brody came back, Therissa was in a mood. She was agitated, distracted, and had only been half-listening to what Brody was saying. Only now does Therissa realize that she must have made her roommate feel like absolute garbage. 

“And… and you didn’t even like the shell…!” Brody wails mournfully. “It was dumb. I should’ve _—_ ”

“Wait, hold up, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Therissa cuts in, unable to keep quiet any longer. “Brody, I did _—_ I _do_ like it. I do, okay?”

Cries quieting down just a bit, Brody peers up at Therissa with teary, red-rimmed eyes. “You do?”

“ _Yes_.” 

As close as Brody is with her best friend, Violet, and as much as they get along and enjoy doing everything together, when it all comes down to it, Therissa’s preteen roommates are completely, fundamentally different. They each have their own way of dealing with feelings and other touchy subjects. In their time living together, Therissa has learned how to navigate the waters, so to speak, whenever her roomies are going through something rough. 

Violet, for one, doesn’t like to be coddled or fussed over when she’s upset. The blonde doesn’t even want people to focus on the fact that she’s upset because she gets embarrassed about it. There are a few unspoken rules regarding how to handle an upset Violet. Approach slowly and keep a safe distance or she might shrink back into her shell. Lend her an ear in case she feels like opening up, but don’t push it if she doesn’t. And if, heaven forbid, Violet cries, do not, under _any_ circumstances, point it out. Do her a solid and pretend it’s not even happening. 

And Therissa gets it because she’s the same way. 

Brody, however, is a torrent of emotions when she’s upset, and it’s necessary to take more of a tactile approach with her. An emotional Brody is easily overwhelmed and can fall apart in an instant, and, when she does, the best remedy is to simply give her lots of TLC. Acknowledge her feelings and just be there with her while she cries it out. And the things that comfort Brody the most? Hugs, cuddles, and words of reassurance that everything’s going to be okay. 

It just so happens that displays of affection like these are exactly the kind of thing that Therissa has always struggled with. 

But, even so, Therissa has finally had enough of Brody’s pitiful state. Swallowing her pride, she pulls the younger girl into a single-armed hug. As expected, Brody seems to melt into the embrace and Therissa feels her move, molding like clay against her side and wrapping her arms tightly around her in return. It takes a minute for Therissa to relax under Brody’s weight and warmth, but eventually her stiff posture eases up and her free arm comes down to rest comfortably against her roommate’s back. “Hey… you did nothing wrong, okay? Nothing.”

Brody clings on tightly, fingers gripping the hem of Therissa’s dark denim jacket. Just a few minutes ago she was so sad and hurt, but she’s feeling a little better now that she’s had a chance to let everything out. Blinking away the last of her tears, Brody closes her eyes and focuses on the sensation of the gentle up-and-down, back-and-forths Therissa has started rubbing onto her back. Her heart feels a hundred pounds lighter and the tightness in her chest has disappeared. She can finally breathe again! 

Well, not quite. 

She really, _really_ needs to blow her nose.

Reluctantly, Brody lifts her head and sits up again, breaking her and Therissa’s hug in the process. She crawls through the space between Therissa’s back and the headboard to grab her box of tissues from her desk. 

While waiting for Brody to finish cleaning herself off, Therissa takes a moment to really look at the girl beside her. A few auburn strands are stuck to her cheek from residual tears, and it’s only in that moment that the teen notices that Brody’s hair is unstyled and slightly messy, like when she’s just woken up and hasn’t brushed it yet. On top of that, she’s still in her pajamas. Considering the fact that Brody is always awake and ready to start her day before Therissa’s even out of her bunk, the older girl feels like she should have suspected that something was wrong sooner. Therissa didn’t even notice that Brody was still in bed when she left for class that morning. What makes it even worse is knowing that she had been the reason all along. 

Caught up in thoughts about how she’s going to make things right, Therissa is unaware that her hand has unconsciously reached out to brush the stray hair out of Brody’s face. She misses both Brody’s surprised blink as well as the soft admiration in her eyes that soon follows. By the time Therissa comes back to reality, she finds the younger girl sitting cross-legged in front of her, quietly waiting for a response. Blue orbs look up at her expectantly.

Brody has said all that she needed to say.

It’s Therissa’s turn now. 


	9. Just the Two of Us

**Just the Two of Us**

The time has arrived for Therissa to spill some of her deepest, darkest secrets, and it’s no surprise that she’s not looking forward to it one bit. Once upon a time _—_ one that seems like a lifetime ago _—_ Therissa was in total control of her own feelings. Whenever she didn’t want to show them, which was basically all the time, she hid them so convincingly that everyone around her, even her own family, started to believe that she was cold and heartless and incapable of feeling anything at all. But it’s not that Therissa doesn’t feel. She does. A lot. Maybe even more than she should sometimes. It’s just that wearing her heart on her sleeve for the world to see has always been a little much. 

Caring is hard. Showing dumb, gushy feelings is hard. Therissa keeps all of her sappiest, most embarrassing ones locked away so deep inside her that sometimes even she herself forgets that they’re there. It’s easier that way. 

But as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures. Therissa had been hoping that things would never come to this, but, alas, here she is, seconds away from unlocking the vault. And all for the sake of her twelve-year-old roommate. 

“Look, Brody, I’m not trying to make excuses or anything,” Therissa begins, focusing on keeping her voice low and steady as to not reveal how nervous she actually is, “but, like, I was in a really shitty mood the night you got back. My sister had been hounding me the whole freaking day—”

“Mel?” asks Brody in a soft voice. 

“Uh, yeah,” Therissa replies, nearly stuttering and raising an eyebrow in slight surprise. “I can’t believe you remembered her name. Haven’t talked about her since—”

The auburn-haired girl gives a small smile. “Since I was ten and you still had those pink streaks in your hair.”

Therissa forces a puff of air through her lips and then starts to laugh. “Of course you remember all the cringey stuff, too.”

“But it looked really c—” Brody starts to say, but she’s immediately interrupted by a pillow to the face. “Ow!” 

“ _Anyway_ , Mel kept texting me about how our mom was trying to get a hold of me, or whatever. Like, since when, right?” Scoffing, Therissa’s face suddenly turns sour, as though she just tasted something unpleasant. In the next moment, though, her expression relaxes and she sighs. “I know I was probably being a huge bitch, so... I’m sorry.”

Brody looks up at the older girl with blue eyes full of forgiveness. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I made you feel like shit for no reason. And then when you gave me that shell?” Therissa feels somewhat sick as she remembers her choice of words, then shakes her head firmly. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. That wasn’t cool.” 

“Are you sure you don’t think it was lame?” 

From the lingering gloomy tone in her voice, Therissa can tell that Brody still isn’t completely convinced. She gives the younger girl a crooked smile and holds out her little finger. “I promise. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. All that junk.” 

Breaking into a grin, Brody extends her own pinky and links her and Therissa’s fingers together. “Okay, I believe you.” 

Even though Brody is only a couple months away from officially becoming a teenager herself, she’s still as much of a dreamer as ever. Somehow she has managed to keep her childlike innocence that most people lose as they journey into adolescence. For Brody, the magic of pinky swears, secret handshakes and friendship bracelets hasn’t yet faded away. She finds joy in even the most mundane things. Never in her life has Therissa met anyone with a bigger heart, who _does_ and _feels_ so intensely, or who believes more strongly in the inherent good in everyone and everything. To put it simply, she’s just never met anyone like Brody. 

“So, this may come as a surprise to you, but my friends aren’t exactly nice people,” says Therissa, seemingly changing the subject. It’s kind of a joke. She said it hoping her roommate might laugh, or make a face, or point out that her friends kind of suck. But, then again, this is Brody. Therissa had briefly forgotten that this type of humor doesn’t work with her. 

As expected, Brody ponders the statement for a moment, but then she shrugs. “But they’re still your friends, right?”

The expression that Therissa makes in response is indecipherable. “They’re pretty much a bunch of assholes. I mean, like, they couldn’t give two shits about making anyone else happy.” Brody is looking at her in confusion, clearly not understanding why the teen has suddenly started badmouthing her friends. But Therissa purposely avoids the girl’s gaze, head starting to tingle from the rising temperature in her cheeks and ears. “They’re not like you. I mean… like, you’re...”

 _You’re different._ The string of compliments that the teenager intends to cheer her roommate up with twists into a knot that jams itself in the middle of her throat. The fact that Brody is all ears and clearly anticipating the rest of that sentence is only making things worse. 

At the last second, Therissa bails. “It’s just, that was the first gift I’d ever gotten from anybody here, and… and, you know, it was a sweet gesture.” All this sugary, sappiness is making her itch, but at least Brody looks a lot better now. “Anyway, are we good then? You and me?”

Brody nods with a smile. “Yeah, we’re good.”

Therissa folds her arms and goes quiet for a moment. “So, like… I know you’re still hung up on ‘missing out’ on the stuff me and Violet did while you were away, but we honestly didn’t do that much. Just stuff to pass the time, you know? It gets kinda quiet in here without our busy bee.”

And just like that, Brody looks upset again. Bringing her knees to her chest and resting her chin against them, the younger girl lets out a teensy sigh, which tells Therissa all that she needs to know. Her job here isn’t quite finished yet after all. 

So Therissa kicks her boots off and mirror’s her roommate’s posture, hugging her knees and heaving an audible fake sigh. For a few moments she just stares at the girl across from her with her lips turned down in an exaggerated pout, hoping that when Brody looks up and sees her she might smile again. But Brody seems more interested in the blankets on the bed, so Therissa has to be more direct with her tactics. “Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” 

“Will you promise not to get mad?”

The fact that Brody feels like she has to keep things from her bothers Therissa in a way that she never expected it would. “Of course. Lay it on me.”

“I guess... when Vi told me that y’all did your nails together, I felt…” Brody hugs her legs more tightly as her expression becomes pained from remembering that night again. “I felt kinda sad ‘cause, well… we’ve never done anything like that before. I mean, like… spending time together and doing something real special, just the two of us. And I just… I really wanna do stuff like that with you, too.”

In that moment, everything finally clicks. Therissa realizes that Brody isn’t jealous that Violet got to paint her nails before she did, nor is she disappointed that her roommates had fun without her and she missed it. Not exactly. Not _entirely_. The real reason why Brody’s so upset—even though it makes absolutely no sense to the teen at all—is because she wants to spend time with her. As in, actual one-on-one, just-you-and-me-and-nobody-else time. With _her._ And Therissa doesn’t understand it because it’s not like she’s ever been particularly likeable, especially when Brody first arrived at Ericson’s. 

“And I know you’re so much older than me so it might be kinda lame to hang out, but it doesn’t have to be all the time. Just sometimes, if you want to,” Brody hurriedly adds. Therissa has a strange look on her face, so she’s starting to worry that she’s said something wrong. “Um, sorry, I—”

“Hey, can I ask you something?” 

Brody’s heart catches in her throat and she forces it back down with a nervous gulp. “Yeah?”

“Why do you even want to hang out with me?” Therissa directs her question at the spot just below the younger girl’s nose but above her lips. Brody’s eyes are looking right into hers and it’s making Therissa feel like she can see all the way inside her. “Ever since you got here, like, you’ve always seemed to… you know... _like_ me, or whatever, and—” 

“Because I do,” interrupts Brody, voice full of concern even though Therissa feels like it should be the other way around. “I’ve always liked you.”

“But _why_?” Therissa doesn’t intend for it to come out so intensely. She has to stop to take a deep breath and lower her voice again. “Explain to me because I can’t comprehend it. Why would you when basically all I’ve ever done is treat you like shit?” 

Shaking her head, Brody comes closer. “Do you remember Veronica?”

The teen gives a short laugh. “You think I’d forget her? She was a total bitch.” 

“Therissa!” 

“What? It’s true and you know it.”

Even though Brody doesn’t like curse words, she can’t deny that her old roommate did, in fact, live up to the name Therissa just called her. Veronica was their roommate back when Brody first got to the school, a couple years before Violet. The mean-spirited teenager was rude, self-absorbed, and always had something awful to say. From the very beginning, Veronica was especially nasty to Brody, calling her names and making awful comments on just about everything she did. Being the oldest—even older than Therissa by a year—seemed to make her think that she was the boss of their bedroom. Both Brody and Therissa pretty much had to walk on eggshells whenever she was around. 

And despite all of Brody’s attempts at getting her eldest roommate to tolerate her, Veronica was just plain mean up until the day she left. 

“You weren’t like her,” says Brody, giving Therissa a reassuring smile. “You were kinda grumpy sometimes, but you were still nice.”

“Oh, _please_. I wasn’t nice to you.”

“You were!” Brody insists. “Like, on the inside. In here.” The girl places her hand over her own heart. “I don’t know how to explain it very well, but even when you said mean things, your actions were nice. You still helped me whenever I needed you. I knew that you cared. You never said it, but you showed it.”

It takes a moment for Brody’s words to sink in, but when they do, they hit Therissa hard. All the teen can do is sit there in stunned silence. Everyone Therissa has ever known has always taken what she’s had to give at face value. Nobody has cared enough to look deeper than that. They hear her sharp words and see her cold guise and shy away, easily fooled into believing that there’s nothing else there. But realizing that there’s been someone who could see right through her this whole time? Someone who hasn’t given up on her despite everything she’s said and done? Therissa has never been more touched… and she has never wanted to hug Brody Burress more than she does at this very moment. 

And for once in her miserable life, she doesn’t hold back. 

Even if it’s mostly to buy herself time to blink her tears away before Brody can see them.

Therissa reaches out and envelopes Brody in the tightest hug, hoping that it conveys her gratitude in a way that she can’t quite express in words. _Thank you._ The teen keeps the embrace long enough to swallow the lump in her throat and recompose herself. Only one person is allowed to cry in their bedroom per day, otherwise it becomes too much for Therissa. But she does allow herself to say one more thing, and this time she has a good feeling that it won’t get lost in translation. “How did someone like you get stuck in the same room as someone like me?” 

In typical Therissa fashion, her kindness comes out in a way that sounds like a joke, but Brody hears the underlying meaning. _I’m glad that we’re roommates._

“Maybe ‘cause they knew we’d be good together,” comes Brody’s simple reply. Her voice is muffled by Therissa’s jacket, but it’s clear that the girl is positively beaming. It’s such a rare occurrence for Therissa to initiate any sort of physical affection, so Brody is over the moon knowing that this is just for her. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Therissa says softly, giving Brody one final squeeze before letting her go. The teen used to think it was a bit twisted for whoever was in charge of room assignments to leave a defenseless lamb like Brody right at the entrance of her and Veronica’s fox den. Brody was practically a baby—so sweet and pure compared to her two older roommates—and Therissa honestly wasn’t expecting the arrangement to work out. But when she looks back on it now? Maybe they were onto something. “You know you can call me out on my bullshit, right? If I’m ever being insensitive or rude to you for no reason, I want you to feel like you can be straight with me. No more keeping it to yourself. Got it?”

Brody nods, but not very confidently. “I’ll try.”

“Just be like”—Therissa grins cheekily and puts on a heavy drawl, clearly trying to imitate Brody’s accent—“‘Oh, you hush your mouth, Therissa! You’re bein’ a big meanie!’ and I’ll, like, take a chill pill.” 

The uncharacteristically playful display has its desired effect on Brody, as the younger girl dissolves into a fit of giggles. “I don’t talk like that!”

Therissa pokes Brody in the leg, smirking. “You totally do.”

“I can do you, too,” says Brody, moving to stand on her knees so that she’s taller than Therissa. She puts her hands on her hips and puts on an exaggerated frown, which ends up being more of a funny, tight-lipped pout from trying her hardest not to laugh. _“Ugh, fine, I guess I’ll watch a movie with you before I go back to class, or whatever.”_

“What? I’ve never—” Therissa stops mid-sentence, suddenly realizing exactly what Brody is doing. She shakes her head, chuckling. “Oh my god. Okay, I’ve gotta hand it to you. That was pretty impressive.”

“So…?” 

When it comes to skipping class, Therissa doesn’t have to be asked twice. Today, however, she had already been planning to stay a little longer, just to make sure Brody’s really okay. Therissa stretches out on the bed to make herself more comfortable and gives a thumbs-up. “As long as it’s not something lame.”

With an excited cheer, Brody hops out of bed to fetch her DVD player and begins spouting off a list of movie titles and plot summaries for Therissa. What she doesn’t know is that the teenager is only pretending to consider all of the options. Therissa has already decided that she’s going to let Brody choose today. After all that’s happened, it’s the least she can do. She’s just going to sit back, relax, and enjoy whatever movie her roomie picks out for them to watch.

Even if it _is_ something lame. 


	10. Special Delivery

**Special Delivery**

Another school week has come and gone, and the students of Ericson Academy have finally reached the weekly checkpoint that everyone looks forward to the most—the weekend. After five straight days of lessons, homework and responsibilities, the one day per week when there’s no schedule, nowhere to be, and nothing but unstructured fun and relaxation is here at last. The sun is shining, the air is crisp, and, according to the weather forecast, later in the day it should be warm enough to play outside without a jacket. What a beautiful Saturday morning indeed. 

Sundays are different. There are mandatory chores in the morning and extracurriculars scheduled all throughout the afternoon. Students aren’t allowed to use the gym or the outdoor fields unless they have sports practice, nor can they set foot inside the creative arts building unless they have an art or music lesson.

But that’s a worry for tomorrow.

Today is still Saturday. For Therissa, this means snoozing until noon, then lazing around in bed with only her phone and CD player to keep her company until she feels like getting up. As for Brody and Violet, the two younger girls have been out and about all morning and are now on their way back to their bedroom to drag their teenage roommate out to lunch. After some complaining and a bit of colorful language on Therissa’s end, the three of them head down to the dining hall to grab a bite to eat, and then, when they’re done, return to their room to hang out. 

Separately, usually. Therissa likes to do her own thing, and most of the time it’s just Brody and Violet doing stuff together. Once in a blue moon, though—if all the stars and the planets align just right and Therissa is in a good mood—Brody can convince her to join them. And today, much to the twin-tailed tween’s delight, is one of those days.

Tonight, they’re going to have a campout. Or, rather, a camp “in” due to the lack of a tent, a campfire, s’mores, and the whole _outdoors_ element that are all fundamental to a typical night of camping. Nonetheless, Brody and Violet move their mattresses to the middle of the bedroom floor and pitch a little blanket fort above them using their chairs and desks. Therissa plops herself right in the center of the mattresses and stretches out comfortably while her roomies circle the room collecting pillows and blankets to use for extra cushioning. 

“Let’s play a game!” Brody suggests as she flops belly-first onto a mountain of blankets. “Truth or dare.” She frowns when Violet and Therissa let out a collective groan. “Come on, it’ll be fun. This is our first campout together, so we should get to know each other better.”

“You do realize we’ve all been sleeping in the same room for, like, a year, right?” Therissa points out.

“Oh, hush, you know what I mean.”

“So, basically, you want to ask me a bunch of questions and make me talk about myself,” Therissa says, catching on to Brody’s ulterior motive right away. Propping her head up with her elbow, she turns to Violet and screws up her face into one of exaggerated distaste, causing the blonde to slap her hands over her mouth to prevent herself from laughing out loud. Violet crouches down and crawls into their fort, taking a seat next to Therissa, who winks at her. 

“It’s for all of us,” Brody insists. “You get to ask me and Vi stuff, too.”

“Can’t we just, like, play cards or something?” Violet doesn’t particularly feel like talking about herself today, either. Truth or dare is one of those risky games with the potential to get uncomfortably personal. A feeling deep in her gut is telling her that playing something like that with Therissa around might not make for the most enjoyable of times. The teen seems like the type who would ask weird questions and come up with mortifying dares. 

“I second that,” says Therissa, holding up a hand with her index finger extended. “But no baby games like Go Fish or Old Maid. You guys know how to play poker?”

“Isn’t that the one where you have to… you know... take off your clothes?”

The eldest girl snorts, nearly choking, and cackles loudly. “No, V, that’s _strip_ poker.” 

A disappointed pout appears on Brody’s face as she allows herself a moment to mourn the loss of the truth or dare game that never was. With Therissa and Violet being so similar, she comes to the realization that she very well might have to get used to being outnumbered again. It was the same way at home with her two older brothers. Now that she and her siblings are all a bit older, wiser, and have learned to compromise every now and then, it’s not so bad, but Brody remembers that when she was really little, Dawson and Hunter hardly ever wanted to do what she wanted to do. It was always two against one, and never in her favor. 

Brody doesn’t dwell on it for long, though. The most important thing is that she’s getting to spend time with Violet and Therissa. _Together._ At the same time! And card games can be fun, too. Brody’s never played poker in her life, but she’d love to learn. Therissa leaves their fort just to grab a slightly worn deck of cards from her desk drawer, but then Brody and Violet scoot in close, listening intently as the teen starts to explain the rules. 

Therissa only gets as far as explaining the object of the game when there’s a knock at the door. Brody excitedly hops up to see who it is. “I’ll get it!” 

It’s Marlon, this week’s mail boy, wearing khaki shorts, white knee-high socks, and a deep red polo shirt embroidered with the Ericson emblem. The matching red newsie cap atop his head is just as prominent as the scowl on his face. Each week, a different student is selected to help sort student mail and then deliver it to the correct dorm rooms. Unlike Brody, who sports the uniform with pride every time her turn to be mail girl comes along, the blonde boy is clearly one of the many kids at the school who finds the whole thing kind of humiliating. 

Reaching into the large, brown satchel hanging from his shoulder, Marlon pulls out a padded envelope and practically shoves it into Brody’s hands. “Special delivery. See ya!”

“Thanks,” says Brody, but her classmate has already taken off running down the hall. Shutting the door, Brody comes back to the center of the room and takes a closer look at the small, lumpy package. “Oh, Therissa, it’s for you!” She glances at the name and address in the upper left corner and grins. “It’s from Mel!” 

“Oh, that.” Therissa already knows what’s inside the package without having to look, and she’s already starting to feel embarrassed at the thought of what’s about to go down. Keeping a straight face, she does her best to play it cool. “Wanna open it for me?”

“Sure,” replies Brody, returning to her previous spot in the fort and shaking the envelope ever so slightly. Violet moves closer, just as curious, watching as her friend tears open one end of the package. Before Brody can reach inside, the envelope’s contents start rolling and something colorful falls out onto the mattress below. The girl blinks, speechless, and stares down at the two tiny glass bottles in awe. “It’s… nail polish. But they’re—”

“They’re yours.”

Brody takes in a sharp breath and her hands go to cover her mouth. “What?”

Therissa reaches out and takes the nail polish, holding each color in front of her face to get a look at them before they go to their new owner. There’s a shockingly hot pink and a bright sky blue, and the thought of wearing either of these colors on her own fingernails sort of makes the teenager want to puke, but they’re disgustingly, disturbingly perfect. “Yeah, I mean, if I ever wake up one day wanting to look like a bubblegum fairy princess, I’ll let you know, but until then”—Therissa removes her roommate’s hands from her face and drops the bottles into her palms—“I think you should hold onto them.”

“Oh, these colors are so cute! Are they really for me?” Brody can’t believe it. She pinches herself to make sure she’s not dreaming. _Ouch._ She’s not. Breaking into the biggest smile, Brody hugs the bottles to her chest. 

“It’s just, I know how much you wanted to be there when me and Violet did ours, so…” Therissa’s face is getting too warm for her to finish her sentence, so she cuts herself off. “Anyway, if I’m gonna do your nails, I had to make sure we had the right colors. You’re way too… _you_ for any of mine. No offense.”

Squealing, Brody launches herself at the teen and hugs her tighter than ever before. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Violet snickers. “Can you imagine Brody with, like, black nails?”

“And black eyeliner and maybe a little mascara?” Therissa pictures their auburn-haired roomie wearing her makeup and shakes her head, starting to laugh as well. “Oh my god, she’d be like an emo Elmo.” With one final pat onto the younger girl’s back, Therissa pulls away gently. She looks at Brody, grinning in amusement. “What do you think? Wanna try it out? I could give you a couple piercings to match.” 

Brody gasps, face contorting into one of absolute horror as she imagines Therissa coming at her ears with a needle. She fervently shakes her head and shudders. “No!”

Therissa and Violet turn to look at each other, but as soon as they make eye contact, they both explode into hysterics. It isn’t long before Brody realizes that the teen was just kidding around, and she soon finds herself giggling, too. Whether it’s joy, sadness, excitement or even fear, Brody tends to absorb the emotions of those around her. They penetrate her down to the bone and she feels them as though they’re her own. Brody usually knows what sort of mood Therissa’s in before the teenager even opens her mouth. If Violet has a bad dream and wakes up sad or scared, Brody cries right along with her. When her friends are happy, so is she.

Brody’s always been a little bit like that. 

Occasionally her mind wanders. Sometimes Brody thinks about what her life would be like if her parents never sent her to Ericson’s. Would she still be as frightened and anxious as she was before meeting Dr. Larson? Would she have found a best friend whom she loves as much as she loves Violet? Like everything else in the world, life at a boarding school has its ups and downs. Some days are tougher than others, and being away from her family is rough sometimes, but Brody is forever grateful that she ended up here.

Here, as in Ericson Academy, of course. But also _here_ , as in right here in her bedroom, sitting in between her best friend, Violet and her newest friend, Therissa, in the cozy comfort of their blanket fort. 

And here, on this particular Saturday afternoon, Brody knows one thing for certain—she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 


End file.
